


Golden Trunks

by Yaboihaiji



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dave's POV, Incest, Jealousy, M/M, a hint of powerplay kink, fluffy dirk strider, good smelling dirk strider, gratuitous amounts of self-indulgence, marry me dirk strider, my kink is bro strider receiving the love he deserves, prayer circle for me to update this asap, smell kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 01:50:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18022544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaboihaiji/pseuds/Yaboihaiji
Summary: The walls are pretty thin in the high-rise apartment, and you can hear every dull thud of the bed frame against the wall separating you and him.





	Golden Trunks

**Author's Note:**

> its me.... im bacc...... at it again..... w incest...... this time its ma boys. my actual kid... Dave. and also like. a wild loving bro strider.
> 
> enjoy lovies!

The walls are pretty thin in the high-rise apartment, and you can hear every dull _thud_ of the bed frame against the wall separating you and him. You can hear his strained breathing, harsh and shallow, only drowned out by the faceless loud insistent voice, begging _harder_ , _faster_ , _more_.   
  
No one could’ve faulted you then, for all the sultry dreams you’ve been dealing with. Him starring in each one.   
  
At first the burly figure in your dreams had no distinct features, just a heavy and warm body against you. Thrusting into you hard and fast, pumping your cock with practiced ease, bruising and sucking at your skin so hard you nearly shout at the intensity of it all.  
  
But then you dreamt of tugging at stiff blond hair, of sharp teeth biting at sun-kissed shoulders, a large steady hand clasped over your mouth ordering in a low voice to keep quite. And a glimpse of fiery golden orbs pinning you in place had you shoot up in bed with a loud gasp, a wave of nausea washing over you.   
  
Your heart had thudded hard against your chest, darkened blond hair strands stuck to your face, sweat rolled down your neck and soaked into your shirt. Your dick was heavy and stiff between your legs, a dark wet patch where the head of your cock had been leaking and tight, created a visible tent in your boxers. You could feel your cock twitching in your underwear, a fresh wave of pre-cum leaking from the tip, when images of the dream flooded your mind, and you had whimpered low in your throat at the state you're in.  
  
It had been a school day, and you really hadn’t wanted to deal with blue balls over… Whatever that had been. So you reluctantly moved your stiff body to the shower, and tried your best not to think of rough fingers pumping you hard, a deep voice ordering you to cum, ripping a wicked orgasm out of you.   
  
No one can blame you now, when you sneak a hand down the front of your body and clasp at your hardened cock with a soft hiss, eyes rolling back in your head. You thumb deliberately slow at the head and groan, while your other hand moves to your right nipple to flick and pinch it, rolling the small nub in between your fingers, savoring every moment, and filing every noise your brother makes away in your head.   
  
You move in tandem with the increasingly frantic thuds of the bed frame. Your balls are tight, and you move the hand that was working your nipple to a swollen bud down your body, pumping your cock a few times before pressing in hard at the entrance to your asshole in time with your thumb rubbing at the slit of your cock. You're leaking so much it's sliding down your hips to the bed sheets. You're so close already, body worked up a frenzy, and you can't help the high whine that escapes your lips when you think of your brother's fingers entering you, stretching your asshole wide for his fingers till it burns, unrelenting and merciless in his assault on your prostate when he finds it.  
  
Your eyes widen in horror at the thought of being heard, but then your brother is growling, and it’s enough to tip you off the edge. Your hips lift off the bed with a loud moan, thrusting harshly into the air, your body coiled tight. Your cum shoots out of you in hot stripes across your stomach and chest, some of it reaching your chin, and your tongue darts out to taste what you can reach of it. You scrunch your nose when the bitter taste dissolves on your tongue, and you flush red with a groan when you wonder what your brother must taste like. Tangerine probably.   
  
The air is still. It’s quite now, save for the occasional creak of the bed when you bend a knee or stretch an arm. You ought to clean the mess you made, but your body weighs a ton and the bed is warm. You’re just gonna shut your eyes for a second.   
  
It’s only a second, and then you’ll get up to wipe yourself down.

 

✤

 

It’s dark when you open your eyes again. Faint light trickles through the curtain in the far corner of your bedroom, and you let your eyes adjust properly to the darkness. There’s a cover draped over you that you don’t recall wrapping yourself around with, and you mentally facepalm when you realize that now you’ll have to explain to your brother why you need to wash the bed sheets and cover.   
  
You haven’t tucked yourself in properly when you finished playing tug-o-war with your dick, and you hastily do so before heading towards the bathroom to piss. You’re almost done when you hear a door creak open and then footsteps moving in the opposite direction of the kitchen. There's some rummaging around in the fridge, and then shortly afterwards there’s the distant static of TV noise from the living room. You pull your pants and boxers down, take off your shirt and start the shower.   
  
The water is cold so you make quick work of lathing up your hair and body, and then you rinse the soap thoroughly, making sure to rub the bends and crevices of your body. You rub the apple scented skin lotion Jade got you in a skin care package for your birthday on your arms and face because skin care is self-love, yo.   
  
_Pinning over your older brother isn’t exactly self-love, though_ , a thought passes through your head, and you pull at your hair till it stings to distract yourself from it.   
  
You dry yourself with the small towel hung on the wall next to the shower, and then quickly dart to your room when you’re done, still naked, save for the tiny towel covering your dick. You'll run out of luck one of these days and get caught, but you can't bring yourself to care enough about that specific scenario. Especially if it involves one Bro Strider.   
  
“Dave, is that you?” You hear a voice that isn’t exactly your brother’s. And misplaced jealousy spikes up your spine. It’s Jake. He’s the not-so-faceless guy your dear brother had been banging last night. Or this morning. Whatever.  
  
“Yeah.” You call out curtly before shutting the door to your room. You take your sweet time pulling on some nice clothes. Skin tight jeans hugging your ass just so, a v-collared shirt showing off your sharp collarbones and a few blond chest hairs you raised yourself, that you're very proud of. You then spend some more time styling your hair messily enough that it looks like someone had been tugging and pulling at it mercilessly.   
  
You blow a low whistle when you look at yourself in the mirror. Looking good, Strider.   
  
You hang your sunglasses in the collar of your shirt and then head to the kitchen after you check the clock on your phone. It’s almost six am and school is in a couple of hours.   
  
You make a bee-line to the fridge to get your precious AJ, grab the cereal box from on top of the fridge, then move to the cabinet to get your SBaHJ custom-made bowl. Your brother got you these for Christmas, and he has one to match.   
  
Speaking of the devil, it looks like your brother is up. “Morning,” Jake greets him, tone placid. You turn around to see your brother, clad in a tank-top and boxers, nod to Jake in greeting. But then he flinches when his eyes shift and land on your figure, lurking in the kitchen doorway on your way to the small dinner table. The movement so minute you don’t think Jake noticed it.  
  
Your ears tingle when his eyes linger on your collarbones, face blank. Or maybe he’s taken an interest in your sunglasses, who knows? He finally moves in the direction of the bathroom and locks the door behind him, and you release a breath you hadn’t realized you’ve been holding.    
  
You sit down at the small table and idly mess around on your phone. There’s a snapchat from John, he’s holding the camera high above his head to take a wider shot of the basketball stadium. The next snapchat is a video of Rose performing a perfect dunk, and then the camera tilting towards Kanaya who pretends she’s swooning. You faintly hear John’s giggle and then you’re brought back to the chat-log screen.   
  
Your chest is warm and you smile a little to yourself at their antics, sending a variant of keysmashes, heart and water droplet emojis in reply, and then you pour yourself the cereal and apple juice in the SBaHJ bowl you brought over.   
  
There’s a snapchat from Jade on the beach with her dog, Bec. He’s a big fluffy boy and you grin at the goofy face he makes when Jade scratches at his fur. You have another snapchat from a very shirtless Karkat, his skin glistening. He appears to be at the boxing ring he practices at with Equius, and you send an eggplant emoji in reply to him and smirk to yourself when his instant reply is a shoe emoji.   
  
The sound coming from the TV abruptly cuts off and then Jake is up and about. You glance at his back as he makes his way to the kitchen, then back to your phone when he calls out, “I’m gonna make some eggs and bacon. Want some, little champ?”  
  
_Oh, so now he’s making himself at home, isn’t he?_ You think bitterly to yourself, then feel a little guilty when you hear him whistling a soft melody to himself in the kitchen.   
  
It is all so very domestic, though, and it still makes you a bit uncomfortable if you’re honest with yourself.   
  
Your cereal is soggy and tastes stale when you shove a spoonful in your mouth, and really you don’t know what you expected when you mixed AJ with the bland brand of cereal your brother likes eating. You must handle the grocery list from now on. You can’t believe you must do everything in this house yourself.   
  
You snort a little to yourself, and then call out to Jake, “Yes, please, I’ll have two eggs.” Then turn back to your phone, abandoning your cereal bowl.   
  
“Okay!” He responds. There’s a loud bang and then, “Holy gee." Then a little louder, "I’m fine, nothing’s broken!” And your eyes roll at him even if he can't see 'em.  
  
Jake and your brother’s relationship is… Complicated, to say the least. They’d been on and off for years now since your brother doesn't do long-distant and Jake needs to constantly be on the move due to his job. They almost always end up seeing other people when he’s away, and you don’t think it’s fair Jake asked your brother to commit at first, when he wasn’t around much to begin with. You mostly think he’s a good fuck, which is why they usually only end up in your brother’s bed when Jake’s in town.  
  
Your teeth subconsciously grind down, and you wince a little when you release the tension in your jaw. Jesus fuck, you’re still not over your jealousy. And you don’t think you’ll ever be. You’ve always been a little jealous of Jake. Your brother’s attention was solely on you when you were younger, he needed to take care of you and make sure you were safe. But when things settled down from the fucked-up situation that was your parents, and then he met Jake, he started splitting said attention with him, and he wasn't around as much to your liking. Somethings he shared with Jake he couldn’t share with you, obviously. And sure your jealousy was innocent enough at first. Missing things like hanging out at the skateboarding ring together, holing yourselves inside all day with takeout food, or even the usual clean-up day you despised so much. But now... Now it’s for entirely different reasons.  
  
You usually don't mind it when your brother brings random one-night-stands over for a quick release. Something about them being strangers makes it easier for you to handle. He does it rarely enough though, and he always shoos them out before you're up, and you're grateful for that. You really don't want to have to deal with hung-over randos throwing up in your bathroom first thing in the morning.   
  
You just seem to really mind it when he brings his ex(current?)boyfriend over.   
  
You're momentarily brought out of your reverie when the greasy smell of bacon hits your nostrils. Your stomach growls and you catch yourself mid-groan when the door to the bathroom creaks open and your brother steps out, freshly showered but still clad in his old boxers and tank-top.

Ah. You had taken the small towel with you to your bedroom earlier and didn't replace it with a new one.  
  
You stifle a laugh at the glare he directs your way and then he's off to his room, shutting the door behind him.   
  
"Dirk, was that you, mate?" Jake calls from the kitchen, and you scowl to yourself at the way he can just call your brother by his first name like that when you still have to refer to him as 'bro' at all times. It's something that has to do with your brother’s weird anime obsession.  
  
"He just went back to his bedroom. He forgot to take a towel with him and his hair is all poofy now." You let a soft smile grace your lips when you recall the way he looked so soft, his hair a curly mess and his skin glistening with water droplets. You feel your insides all mushy and warm.  
  
Jake takes a while to reply this time, then "...he wasn't prancing around nak-" and you cut him off before he finishes as you get up, "No! No, god, no." Like that wouldn't have been a sight to behold. "He'd been wearing his old stuff." You add on your way to the kitchen to check on your beloved bacon.   
  
"Okay." Jake is uncharacteristically quite. "Yeah, okay. He adds a second time after he clears his throat. You wonder what he's so miffed about.  
  
"What're you so miffed about, bro?" You ask him, voice laced with fake concern.  
  
It's his time to roll his eyes at you, "Set the table, will you, little champ?" He then hesitates before he meekly adds, "...Oh, and, call Dirk for breakfast on the way?"    
  
Your cheeks heat up. Ugh, he still won't let up with the endearing nicknames he'd been calling you ever since you've known him.   
  
You set about getting the dinner table ready, grabbing the desk chair in your room on the way to place it near the table for Jake since there's only two chairs.   
  
There are... Butterflies... In your stomach when you finally get your feet to move in the direction of your brother's room. You're not sure what to expect when you finally open the door to his room and peer your head inside, but finding your head suddenly, and  _literally_ , cushioned between his bicep and his chest sure as heck wasn't it.   
  
"Jesus fuck!" You squeak a little, but you'll deny it to your grave.  
  
"Didn't your parents ever teach you to knock, boy." Your brother says, highly amused with himself. The bastard.   
  
The good smelling bastard, you note when you catch your breath again.  
  
You slap at his arms to get him to let up his tight hold, "No.. Ngh.. They were too busy snorting coke to do much of anything."   
  
He tsks and gives you a fucking _noogie_ , "Little shit." Before finally letting go and stepping away.  
  
You straighten up to look at him properly, and then... Stare.  
  
He waxed and combed his hair to its usual state. A shame. But what has you staring is the dark almost see through kimono cardigan, blue opaque pattern with an intricate golden design at the seams, and you note with your horny caveman brain that he isn't wearing any shirt underneath.   
  
Yeah, okay. This is fine.   
  
"Breakf-" you swallow audibly before trying again, "Breakfast is ready."   
  
A hand ruffles your hair, mussing it up further, and then he's pushing past you. You scowl a little and run your fingers idly through your hair, trailing behind him and jesus, okay, you don't think you'll be able to be around him for more than ten minutes at a time because his jean are tight, and his ass is round as a peach and you just want to sink your te-  
  
You take a deep breath and press your finger nails into the palm of your hand with a wince.   
  
Jake has just finished placing the bacon and eggs on the three plates on the table when you enter the living room. He then sits at one of the two chairs that were already there, the chair you brought over from your room tucked neatly under one corner of the table, and you're about to run your mouth and call him out on it because you're a brat, when your brother reaches over, pulls it out, and sits down on it himself.  
  
Jake sends a puzzled look his way because there's a perfectly fine looking chair right there, but he decides to sit down on your tattered ass chair with a suspicious looking stain on it?    
  
Whatever, his loss. You plop your ass down on the other chair and begin to shove the _hmm_ , _delicious_ , breakfast down your throat.  
  
"Easy, cowboy." Jake muses, looking highly pleased with himself. And he should be, his cooking is marvelous.   
  
What. You should give credit where it's due, it's what your bro taught you.  
  
"Mhm, thank you, this is really good." Your brother says after taking a bite himself, a grateful look in his eyes when he looks at Jake. Jake nods his head with a little smile, but then your brother breaks their eye contact and Jake's smile falls from his face. Huh. You wonder what's up. They're never this cagey with each other when Jake comes into town. Maybe a break-up for good is on the way. A twisted euphoric feeling blooms in your chest.   
  
"I'll drop you off right away at the airport once we're done with breakfast." Your brother says to Jake. Jake nods, "Sounds great."

 

✤

 

Your brother and Jake leave after Jake gets his duffel bag ready. Jake hugs you at the front door and you only hug back because of the glare your brother sends your way when you stall long enough for Jake to feel awkward with his arms open wide. When Jake is out the door, your brother nudges your arm hard and entrusts you with the duty of cleaning the dishes and tidying up the table.  
  
You rub at your arm a little after he leaves, and then clench at it tighter.  
  
You move the dishes to the sink and get to work, lamenting the fact that you don’t have a dishwasher because those are expensive as fuck. You then set about dragging the chair you brought over back to your room, when a distinct smell hits your nose. It's your brother's. You carefully move around to the front of the chair, and then extend a hand out to touch the seat cushion. It's still a little warm from your brother's body heat, and you splay your fingers out, trying to grasp at the heat under your palm.   
  
You bend then, and thrust your nose against the cushion, taking a deep breath. Your heart thuds loudly, and your face is warm, your brother's scent filling your senses. The smell of sunburnt skin and faint tangerine. You grasp at the chair with rough hands and exhale harshly.   
  
Heat travels down to your groin the more you inhale his smell. His smell is intoxicating, and there's burning heat blooming in your chest and between your legs. You slowly trail your hand down the front of your body, fingers teasing your chest with light touches till they reach the waistband of your jeans. Your dick is stiffening more and more with each breath you take. You want to drown in his smell, in _him_.   
  
You shove your hand down the front of your jeans and grab at the skin of your cock with some difficulty, the tight waistband digging into your wrist. Sighing, you let go of the chair to unzip your jeans, and reach into your boxers to grab your cock properly. You moan at the direct contact, grip firm. You don't want to make a mess in the living room you then have to clean up, so you keep your cock in your boxers and tug insistently at it, thumbing the under head and then the slit to coat your palm with pre-cum.   
  
The slick noises from how fast you're working your cock echo in the silent apartment, and the thought that someone, _your brother_ , could just walk in the front door and see you bent over the chair, hands in your pants, has you whining so loud the sound reverberates across the living room.   
  
You groan at the heat pressing into your face, desperately craving more of your brother's smell, but it isn't enough.   
  
So you decide to climb the chair, knees splayed on either sides of it, your head against the frame cushion. The position is awkward but you’re _enveloped_ in his smell now.  
  
Images of your brother walking in on you, flushed face and desperate for release, flood your mind. You imagine him pulling you to your feet, shoving your face down to the seat cushion, and lifting your ass up high like a slut, you wiggling your hips a little for show.  
  
You imagine him ordering you to slip your jeans and underwear down, his hands tugging and pinching at your hardened nipples. Imagine him spreading your ass cheeks and tonguing forcefully at your entrance, his teeth grazing the sensitive ring of muscles.   
  
You're cumming then, with a guttural moan, biting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. You feel the metallic taste on your tongue as you pump your cock all throughout your orgasm till you're squirming with it's over-sensitivity. You're breathing heavily, your body spent and limbs numb from overexertion.  
  
You're still coming down from the high when the feelings of emptiness creep up and settle in your chest. Your face falls and you clench your fists tight.   
  
You feel like scum, and your eyes burn with hot tears. You hadn’t realized how tense you’d been ever since last night. And you weren’t exactly ready to get on-board the ‘whirlwind of jealousy and possessiveness coupled with self-hatred’ train that seeing Jake around your brother usually brought about with him.  
  
You press in the heels of your hands to your eyes to get rid of the tears clinging to your eyelashes. Your face scrunches up tight as if you’re almost going to sob, your body coiling tight, but you take a deep breath and rub your face vigorously with your hands.  
  
You get up this time, and drag the chair back to its place in your room. You take another quick shower to get rid of how dirty and awful you feel, but the feeling still doesn’t wash away no matter how many times you scrub at your skin till it’s red and swollen, sensitive to the touch. So you get out of the shower, haphazardly get dressed and then you’re off to school. You hope you look as awful as you feel.


End file.
